I gripped the receiver tightly, cold sweat dripping from my temples.

It seemed the world of my second life wasn't exactly identical—perhaps even the kidnappers' location had changed.

My confidence from before began to crumble, replaced by panic. With a trembling voice, I pleaded, "Can you… give me more time? I—"

Before I could finish, the line went dead.

I forced myself to swallow my rising emotions. I knew showing weakness to people like them would get me nowhere. The priority now was to prepare the ransom and pinpoint their location.

Quickly, I jotted down everything I remembered from my previous life.

There were two kidnappers, both young men. The abduction had taken place at one of their homes.

The ransom was a million dollars, to be dropped into the third trash bin at the south entrance of the train station.

Before the kidnappers could retrieve the money, Thomas had located their hideout and captured them. Both my parents and the cash had been safely recovered.

With that in mind, I grabbed my phone and called 911.

Then, I dialed Joseph Homer, one of my father's closest friends and our company's shareholder. "Have accounting pull together as much cash as possible," I urged.

Joseph sounded just as panicked as I felt. "Don't worry, Wendy. I'll handle the money. You call the police!"

Hearing his reassurance eased some of my anxiety.

Two minutes later, officers from the local precinct arrived.

Thomas's colleague and longtime buddy, Steven Kings, walked through the door, his face devoid of any concern.

"Wendy," he said in a curt tone, "Thomas just called me. Luckily, I was nearby…"

He folded his arms, glaring at me with disdain. "You do realize filing a false report is illegal, right?"

In that moment, every ounce of courage and hope I'd managed to muster crumbled to dust.

Thomas had decided I was the mastermind behind the kidnapping. And now, he'd sent his most trusted ally to shut down my "act".

Without police support or the expertise of an investigator, how could I possibly save my parents?

My hands trembled, crumpling the notes I'd written in frustration. The thought of my parents being tortured made me break down in tears.

"Steven," I sobbed, barely able to breathe, "I'm not lying. I'm an adult, and I'm responsible for my actions. I'm begging you. Please, help me save my parents!"

I kept glancing at the clock, fully aware that ten minutes had passed, and I didn't have much time left.

But Steven leaned back casually on the couch, scrolling through his phone, completely unbothered.

"You think crocodile tears are going to guilt-trip me?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Kids from orphanages are always the sly ones. That's what Thomas said, too. You're not like someone raised in this family."

The disdain in his voice was like a knife. He continued with a smirk, "Lillian's so much more considerate. Always was."

Lillian and I couldn't have had more different fates. She was adopted into the Bells at eight years old, cherished like a precious gem, especially by Thomas. His protectiveness toward her bordered on obsessiveness. Even after they'd grown up, he still coddled her to an unsettling degree, even sleeping in the same bed as her.

The ticking clock yanked me back to reality.

I forced myself to stay calm, swallowing the bitterness that surged in my chest.

"Steven," I said firmly, "you're here. That means you have a duty to respond to the report I filed—"

Before I could finish, Steven cut me off with a scornful laugh.

"Listen to you," he scoffed. "What are you, some spoiled brat pretending to be all noble now? Just because you're back with the Bells, you think you can run the show? To them, you're nothing but an outsider."

His words sent a chill straight through me.

"Thomas told me all about it," he sneered. "Your parents don't even love you that much. They call you Lillian half the time. You've been scheming nonstop for their attention, haven't you? Drove Lillian out of the house, poor thing."

As Steven munched on fruit from the platter, his tone turned almost casual. But every word was a blow.

I knew his insults weren't baseless.

This was the image Thomas had painted of me—over years of subtle comments and outright accusations.

To them, I was nothing more than a conniving nuisance.

But Steven's opinion of me didn't matter. Not now.

"What will it take for you to believe me?" I asked, stepping closer, my voice trembling but resolute. "My parents are in real danger. If we miss the critical window to save them, can you take responsibility for that?"

For a moment, Steven hesitated, his hand freezing mid-motion. Then he stood, looming over me with a sneer.

"Go ahead. Report me if you want. Little brats like you need to be taught a lesson…"

He trailed off as the front door opened, revealing two uniformed officers.

"Is Ms. Wendy here? We're here to respond to the 911 call."

My legs nearly gave out as a wave of relief washed over me.

Finally, my parents had a chance to be saved!

Steven quickly stepped forward to shake hands with the arriving officers.

"I'm a fellow officer. I'm just here to check on Thomas's little sister," he said casually.

It was only then that I noticed he was dressed in plain clothes. The moment he reached the doorway, he tried to slip away.

However, the two officers blocked his path with firm resolve.

I rushed to explain the situation.

"Officers! My parents really have been kidnapped! I have a recording as proof!"

The phone call I had specifically recorded finally came in handy. As the kidnapper's voice played, Steven's face turned ghostly pale.

"But Thomas said it was all an act…" he stammered. "He said you staged this whole thing yourself!"

I let out a cold snort, unwilling to waste my breath arguing.

Unfolding the crumpled paper in my hands bit by bit, I pieced together fragments of hazy memories from my past life. Carefully recalling every minute detail, I quickly sorted through my thoughts and came up with a plausible explanation to provide the officers with a lead from that previous life.

"Officers! I remember seeing the suspects near my house before. Their voices sound very similar… They even asked me for directions once, though I can't be entirely sure."

The police wasted no time setting up sketch artists and surveillance equipment.

I concentrated fully, describing every feature of the two kidnappers.

Before long, a comparison with a database of prior offenders yielded results.

They were two young men who had served time for robbery. One of them had even used his real name to rent a house. The police immediately organized a rescue operation.

Sinking into the sofa, I felt as though I had been pulled out of a pool—cold sweat drenched me to the bone.

Twenty minutes later, the officer accompanying me received an update.

"I'm sorry, Wendy," he said. "We didn't find your parents at the scene. But we did find this."

In the kidnapper's home, they had discovered numerous surveillance photos—not just of my parents but also of me.

"They've been watching you for a long time. Don't worry; these two won't get away," the officer reassured me.

My mind felt like it was on the verge of imploding. The very thing I feared most had happened—the kidnappers had moved my parents to another location.

This meant that all the clues I had painstakingly gathered were now useless.

Off to the side, Steven was on the phone with Thomas.

Even though he tried to lower his voice, I could still hear every word crystal clear.

"It's a real kidnapping. They already have suspects. You should come back…"

From the other end of the call, Thomas's laughter rang out—mocking, indifferent.

He spoke as though he intended for me to hear every word.

"Just stop, will you? The bigger the scene you make, the harder you'll fall. And when Mom and Dad disown you for embarrassing them, don't come crying to me…"

A surge of anger and bitterness from my past life overwhelmed me.

Even if he despised me, the sister his family had only recently found, how could he still be so blind in a situation like this?

I had done nothing wrong. Neither had our parents.

The son they had doted on and cared for meticulously for over two decades now prioritized his adopted sister over their safety.

How devastated would they feel if they knew?

The thought of their misplaced trust made my heart ache on their behalf.

As I wiped away the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes, the house phone suddenly rang, its shrill tone piercing the room.

The officer in charge of surveillance gave me a quick glance.

My heart began pounding wildly.

The kidnappers were calling again!

The officer monitoring the call gave me an "OK" gesture. My hands were trembling as I picked up the receiver.

A nearby officer held up a card with a reminder. [Stall for time.]

I took a deep breath, but my voice still quivered as I spoke, laced with a desperate sob. "I'm getting the money ready. Please, I beg you, don't hurt my parents."

The kidnapper's sneering laugh crackled through the line. "Then move faster! You've got one hour left. I told you—if you're late, I'll kill them!"

Another card was pushed toward me, urging, [Ask about the drop-off location.]

"Where do I take the money? And after I drop it off, where can I meet my parents?"

The kidnapper's irritation was obvious. "Put the money in a locker at the station. As for your parents, you don't need to worry. Once we get the cash, they'll be back with you."

My temples throbbed violently. Even the ransom location was different from what had happened in my past life. Struggling to mask my panic, I tried to keep the conversation going, giving the officers time to trace the call.

"Can I hear my parents' voices? Just to know they're okay," I pleaded.

The kidnapper spat out a curse. "You're so damn needy."

After a brief silence, I heard my parents' voices.

"Wendy," my mother said weakly, "finding you again was our greatest blessing. We have no regrets in this life. Don't take risks for us. Keep yourself safe. That's all we ask. I want you to know that your father and I love you more than you know. We've always wanted to make up for lost time, but we didn't know how…"

Then my father spoke, his words laden with guilt, "Darling, I've regretted every day since we lost you when you were two. If I see you again, I'll apologize to you in person…"

I tried to respond, but my throat was so tight with emotion that the words caught. I wanted to tell them I didn't care about making up for anything—I just needed them safe. If they could hold on a little longer, I'd save them.

Before I could speak, the kidnapper shifted the phone abruptly. I heard a sharp kick, followed by muffled curses. "Shut up, you old fools. Rich people really are so dramatic! And you," he barked into the phone. "get the money here fast, or don't expect them to come back in one piece."

The line went dead.

Everyone in the room turned to me, their faces grim. One officer shook his head. "We couldn't trace the location," he admitted. "They used tech to block the signal."

The crushing weight of fear and anxiety returned, leaving my thoughts in disarray. One thing was clear—the money had to be delivered. It was the only way to keep my parents alive.

I grabbed my phone and called Joseph, as he had promised to help me raise the ransom. But no matter how many times I dialed, the call wouldn't go through.

On my umpteenth attempt, my phone buzzed. My stomach dropped when I heard Thomas's mocking laughter.

"Are you done with the act yet? Time to cut it out," he said smoothly.

My voice sharpened. "What did you say to Joseph?"

He didn't bother hiding his amusement. "Oh, just told him not to give you the money. Do you think two million is something anyone would hand over for a performance, no matter how convincing? I told him you're scheming, that the moment you came back to the Bells, you started plotting to drain the family's assets. He wasn't interested in your little charade after that."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Every ounce of hope I'd clung to vanished. My legs buckled, and I felt like a deflated balloon, completely drained of life.

Without that two million, my parents didn't stand a chance.

I had read about this case in my previous life. Those kidnappers had already committed murder before. They wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

If the money didn't reach them, they would kill my parents.

The phone rang again. The kidnapper's voice was sharper this time, every word slicing into my heart like a knife.

"If the money isn't here now, I'll kill them!"